


Identity

by PureStream



Category: True Remembrance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-08
Packaged: 2018-05-19 01:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5951206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PureStream/pseuds/PureStream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five people have lost their memories. La wants to help them recover, but the man looking after them wants them to form new identities. What's the correct choice?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Identity

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. I've had this story stuck inside my head for years, but only now I've decided to give it a go. Maybe I shouldn't have delayed so long, but no time like now to leave a mark. I believe this also counts as the first fanfiction for True Remembrance, though this technically is a crossover. So there'll eventually be other fandoms added to the tags, but for now they'll remain a secret.
> 
> Anyway, this is my rather rough prologue so here you are. Enjoy.

Six glasses of water. That’s all what was needed.

Five are sitting there, empty. Only one was already filled up. Due to an oversight of mine, I poured more water into it, to the point of overflowing and spilling over. But that alone could have been dealt with. Nothing a little clean-up wouldn't have helped. Of course, fate had to be a little more cruel, didn’t it?

No, in my surprise, the pitcher wound up broken as well.

All that ice and water…never mind the damage it's already doing to the floor. All that ice and sharp broken glass - the kitchen has become a danger zone.

I heave a great sigh. It was too much.

Today’s been enough of a disaster. Adding this up is merely the cherry on the figurative sundae. No, more like the prickly pear on a cactus. Easily dealt with most days, but absolutely intolerable timing here.

I stand in silence, face covered by my hands. A foolish part of me wishes this would all be over once I uncover my eyes. But of course, nothing happens. After all, no one else is around and my guests are elsewhere, waiting for me.

In the end, it’s left to me to clean up the mess.

Normally, I am content to fix what everyone overlooks, but on a day like today, with so much of what was lost, I can’t help feeling bitter about it all. Forgive me, Mistress.


End file.
